


Her Name Was Mischa

by Cibbs



Series: Abigail is a little girl [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abigail is a little girl AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Bliss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grandmother-Freeform, Homosexual marriage AU, M/M, Orphan-Freeform, Parents, References to Child Abuse, Revolution, Snow, Winter, happy couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 21:16:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21125369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cibbs/pseuds/Cibbs
Summary: Hannibal tells Will how his little sister was. He hasn't still recovered form her death.





	Her Name Was Mischa

After many months of paperwork, Hannibal and Will were in the car, on their way to the orphanage.

“How are you feeling, Will?”

“Don’t psychoanalyze me.” The Young man said with a guffaw.

Hannibal answered him with a smile. Outside, it was snowing copiously, but the Bentley went through the iced highway without diverting a millimetre.

At the end they arrived at the orphanage. Hannibal stopped the Bentley, but some minutes passed before Will decided to open the door.

“Come, _mylimas_._ **[1]**_” Said Hannibal, giving him his hand.

Will smiled and both entered the building. At the reception the headmistress was waiting for them, with a portfolio in her arms. 

“Misters Lecter-Graham?” Hannibal nodded. “Follow me, please.”

Hannibal and Will entered the headmistress office, where they sat in front of her desk.

“Seems that everything is in order.” She said, catching a fast glimpse to a portfolio with the adoption documents. “William Graham, teacher at the FBI Academy and Hannibal Lecter, psychiatrist with his own consulting room. Perfect. Both have good income level, a comfortable home and an impeccable curriculum. I will introduce your daughter immediately.”

And she went off to the corridor while Will stood up and started to come across the office making big strides.

“Keep calm, Will.” Hannibal said, hugging him. “Sit and breathe.”

He placed his glasses and Will managed to calm himself. The young man closed his eyes and when he opened them again, the headmistress was in front of him, holding a little girl’s hand. She was the most beautiful creature that Will had ever seen. She had green eyes and hazel brown hair.

“This is your family.” The headmistress said. 

“Really?” She asked. “I don’t have to come back?”

The director shook her head. One of the teachers took the suitcase to the door while the girl took Will’s hand. When they reached the street, Hannibal opened the Bentley, and both helped the girl to sit. Hannibal started the engine and the travel began.

“Many girls that leave the orphanage have a new name.” She said after a long moment of silence. “They called me Celia, but I don’t like it. Have you thought of some other?”

Hannibal bit his lip. 

“Abigail!” He exclaimed. “It means ‘Father rejoices’”

“What…?” The little one asked, knitting her brows. “What is ‘rejoices’?”

Will smiled.

“Happiness.” He said, turning lightly to see the girl. “Because we are so happy you are here. How does it sound?”

She clapped her hands while the Bentley went across the forest. Silence produced such relaxation in her that she felt asleep. Occasionally, Will turned his head to observe her. Hannibal took his right hand off the wheel to rest it on his husband’s thigh.

“Everything’s going to be well, my little mongoose.” He whispered, so not to wake up the girl. “What you shouldn’t do now is to be frightened.”

Will wasn’t frightened, but hopeful. He thought a daughter was precisely what Hannibal and he needed to consolidate their relationship. He smiled at his husband.

When, at the end, they arrived home, Hannibal stopped the car and, while Will was taking the luggage from the trunk, he rubbed Abigail’s shoulder.

“We have arrived.” He said, holding her in his arms. “Welcome home.”

The little one observed the mansion, impressed.

“I’m going to live here?”

“Yes. Down!

And Hannibal left the girl on the floor. She entered the moment Will opened the door. Winston, the big brown dog, when he heard the hinges, ran to the porch, where he started smelling Abigail’s skirt. She got frightened.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, hiding behind Hannibal.

He smiled.

“It’s okay, little one.” He said, holding her in his arms again. “I’m going to introduce you.”

Abigail started to sob.

“No, no, no.” She said. “I think he wanted to bite me.”

Will puckered his frown.

“Winston?” He said, puzzled. “No. He is the best friend we have. He only wants to greet you. You’ll see. Winston, sit.”

The dog obeyed and Abigail stretched out his little hand to scratch his ears.

“See it, Abigail?” Hannibal said. “Winston is a friend.”

She smiled.

“How silly of me!” She scolded herself. “Hello, Winston.” She said while she scratched his back.

The four entered the house and went upstairs, to the dormitories.

“This is your room.” Said Hannibal, opening a door.

Abigail was impressed when she saw the room. The walls were painted in violet and the furniture, in white, except the bed, in brass shiny with a canopy in the same colour as the walls. On the door was a big wooden sing painted in colours with the girl’s name.

“Can I stay until dinner?”

“Yes, of course.” Will said, hugging her. “Daddy Han will call you when dinner is ready.”

And Abigail sat on the bed, hugging the teddy bear which was on top of it.

Will and Hannibal were in the kitchen, preparing dinner. The psychiatrist had accepted unwillingly to do some macaroni and cheese for his daughter.

“When I think of the duck in the freezer.” He grumbled.

Will had a fit of laughter.

“Perhaps it is a bit strong.” He said, placing on the stove a big pot of salty water. “It’s better to start little by little, Han. She is a little girl.”

The psychiatrist had no other remedy than smiling at his husband.

While pasta cooked, Hannibal set the hall’s table. When everything was ready, he went up to his daughter’s room and knocked on the door.

“Dinner!” He exclaimed, kissing her hair. “Come, Abigail, dinner!”

She took his father by the hand and both went downstairs to the hall, where Will was placing the pasta platter on the table.

Abigail sat down, helped by Hannibal, and she smiled when she saw the ones that now were her parents surrounding the table.

“What’s wrong, Abigail?” Will asked her, shocked at how she looked at them. “What do you see?”

She didn’t lose her smile when she answered him:

“I see family.”

* * *

Abigail couldn’t sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, his father’s pictures invaded her. His father, holding her in his arms after she had spilt the soup. He threw Abigail in the basement floor, in the darkness, while she screamed at the top of her lungs, promising not to do it again. Suddenly, she returned to the forest, while her father chased her, with a belt in his hand. She only could get rid of him jumping into a river. She did.

“Good morning, Abigail.”

It was Hannibal’s voice, who kissed her. When he took up the bed’s duvet, he saw the sheet was wet. Scared to death and with tears in her eyes, sure of receiving a scolding, the little one admitted she had peed herself.

“Oh!” Hannibal said, hugging her. “It’s okay, mylimoji_**[2]**_.” He kissed her forehead. “We are going to give you a bath and put on fresh clothes.”

Abigail sat herself up in the bed and asked:

“Daddy Will too?”

“Yes. Come.”

And he held her in his arms. When they arrived at the bathroom, Will turned on the bathtub faucets while Hannibal took off the girl’s pyjamas and got her inside the bath.

“It could happen to anyone.” Will said, adding a handful of Epsom salts to the water. “Close your eyes.” 

He put a drop of shampoo in his fingertips and started to soap her brunette hair. Then, he rinsed it with the shower’s water.

“Stay in the water for a while.” Said Hannibal. “We’ll come back later.”

Both left the bathroom and, after changing the bed sheets, went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. When they finished, Will took Abigail off the bathtub and dried her with a big towel.

“That’s it.” He said.

When they arrived at the room, Will dressed Abigail with one of the dresses they had bought for her. They took their hands and went downstairs to the hall, where breakfast was ready. On the table was a tray with hard boiled eggs and bacon, a basket with bread of several types, a green glass pitcher with orange juice and the silver siphon coffee maker.

Each one helped itself what it wanted, and they started eating in silence. When breakfast was finished, Hannibal put his coat on.

“We are going to the park, Abigail.” Will said. “Let me help you with your coat.”

But the young man didn’t have a good fine motor skill and was fighting against the big wooden buttons for a while after Hannibal, who was dying of laughter, decided to help him.

“Winston is coming too?” Abigail asked.

“Yes.” Said Hannibal while Will hang the lash from his neck. “Let the adventure begin.”

Abigail took her parents hands and they set out the way to the park. Occasionally, Winston stopped to smell the snow and Abigail called him:

“Winston?”

And the dog ran nearer to her. 

When they arrived at the park, Abigail ran and sat on one of the swings. Hannibal rocked her softly while Winston sniffed them.

“Why Winston is smelling me?” 

Will smiled.

“Because that way is how he recognizes you.” He said. “Dogs don’t see as we do, and they know where things are by smell.” Abigail stopped the swing. “Shall I get you down?” She nodded and Will took her in his arms.

“Winston!” Abigail exclaimed. The dog went beside her, and she started to scratch his back.

They started walking across the park’s gardens. A couple of hours later, the returned home. Abigail went upstairs to her room with Winston, which smelled her skirt. When they arrived, she sat on the carpet and started to stroke the dog’s back. Winston, grateful, licked her face.

Abigail took a book, lied on the bed and started reading. Time past very quickly and she surprised herself when Will called her for lunch.

“I’m not hungry, daddy Will.” 

He opened the door and Winston jump to the bed with her.

“Lunch!” Said the young man, pretending he hadn’t heard his daughter. “Come, Abigail. Lunchtime!”

He took her down from the bed and, After Abigail had washed her hands, both went to the hall. Hannibal had just finished to set up the plates and helped seat Abigail, who placed her serviette on her lap. On the table were a red wine bottle, a jug of water, a platter with grilled red peppers, a sauce boat with meat sauce and three plates with roasted duck _a la orange_, adorned with diverse kinds of citrus.

“I see…” Will observed with a guffaw. “… That you have ended in getting what you wanted.”

He and Abigail started eating in silence, but Hannibal still took a while in taking his cutlery. He will rise that girl as best as he could. The only thought of having a family again made him smile.

“This time I won’t fail.” He thought while he observed Will cutting the meat from the girl’s plate, as his real father would have done.

* * *

Abigail had spent a week living in Hannibal and Will’s house, filling with bliss the couple’s life. One night, when both were in bed, ready to sleep, Will asked Hannibal:

“Have you ever been a father?”

A tear tried to well up from Hannibal’s green eye, but he managed to control it.

“I was to my sister.” He whispered. “She was not my child but was at my charge. He thought me a lot about myself. Her name was Mischa.”

“Was?”

Hannibal was only capable of saying a sentence:

“She’s dead.”

Just when Will was going to ask him to continue, Abigail called Hannibal. He put on his black silk robe and entered the girl’s room, where he got nearer to the bed.

“Abigail, little thing.” He said while he sat beside her. “Can’t you sleep?”

She hugged him, trying not to cry.

“No, daddy.” She whispered. “I’m frightened. The house is old, and I have seen monsters under the bed.”

Hannibal knitted his brow.

“Oh!” He exclaimed, pretending to be angry. “Well, I didn’t allow them to enter. Let’s see.” He crouched and looked under the bed. “There is nobody here, Abigail. Well, yes.” He said when he saw that the girl’s stuffed toy had fallen. “Here’s Boris, your teddy bear.”

He took it and Abigail hugged it before kissing Hannibal’s forehead. She lied on the bed and closed her eyes while he hushed her. Then, he started to sing: 

_Čiūčia liūlia dukrytėla_  
_Mano mylimoji _  
_Kiek jau kartų per dienelį _  
_Tavį pakilojau _  
_Pakilojau panešiojau _  
_Patalėlį klojau _  
_Čiūčia liūlia dukrytėla_  
_Mano mylimoji _  
_Auk didutė būk greitutė _  
_Mano dukrytėla _  
_Čiūčia liūlia dukrytėla_  
_Mano mylimoji_ ** _[_3] **

Then, Hannibal couldn’t control himself and he started to cry bitterly. Will, when he saw he wasn’t returning, went to the child’s room and hugged his husband.

“Han?” He said, rubbing his hand. “Calm. What happened?”

“Mischa.” He whispered as if he was dreaming. “The last time I sang that lullaby was for her. She loved listening to me.”

Will took Hannibal’s hand and went back to the bedroom. There, both sat on the bed.

“What happened, Han?” He asked while he hugged him again and wiped his tears with a handkerchief. “Do you want to talk about her?”

Hannibal started to gasp and Will took off his robe very slowly. Then, he made him lie down on the bed and covered him with the duvet. 

“Keep calm.” He said, holding his hand tight. “Start as you like.”

The psychiatrist sat up on the bed. He had to breathe deeply several times before starting his narration:

_«Mischa was born when I was six. I don’t remember my mother happier than in that moment. In several occasions, I was Mischa’s babysitter and she loved playing with me. The simplest things, like when I blew a soapy wire ring to make bubbles, seem magic to her. Many times, I would have loved seeing the world with her little grey eyes. We went over the castle gardens, searching for animals to observe them, because Mischa said she wanted to be a veterinarian. _

_When she was old enough, my father bought her a mare. Her name was Grožis**[4]**. I taught her how to ride and, during summer, we went for a stroll to the forest until night. Then Mischa pretended to be one of the fairies of the tales that our grandmother Julianne told us. In those games were when I taught her how to read and write. One of the first things she read was the sign which announced the Autumn Party in the city. We were not allowed to go, but Mischa didn’t care. We would have our own party in our room. _

_Mischa put on his white organdie dress and a matching bonnet and I, a black corduroy suit. I had taken the hall’s record player and several discs for dancing. _

_ “We will have our own orchestra.” Said Mischa, laughing. _

_I still remember that laughter, sweet and cheerful. _

_So, we danced. We danced until Mischa got worn out and we went to bed. _

_ “Someday I will have a daughter.” I thought while I looked and the little one lying on the bed. »_

Will kissed Hannibal in the lips.

“We have a daughter, Han.” He whispered. “Consider it a second chance.”

Hannibal smiled at his husband. 

“What happened then?” Asked Wil, hugging Hannibal. 

A tear tried to well up from Hannibal’s green eye, but he stopped it. 

“I prefer to continue tomorrow, my little mongoose.” He said, holding his head on the pillow. “I need to rest.”

* * *

The next day, Will woke up Abigail with a kiss and a hug. It was a spontaneous, something very strange in someone who meditated each one of his movements.

“Good morning, daddy Will.”

At the orphanage nobody cared about hugging the girls. To wake them up, they played a rattle, which the girls obeyed automatically. That’s why Abigail had decided to enjoy her foster parents’ affection signs as if they were a treasure.

Hannibal’s voice made her to abandon her thoughts.

“Breakfast, _mano mylimoji_!” He said, taking her in his arms.

The three of them went to the hall, where the table was set. Abigail sat, helped by Hannibal and they started to have breakfast in silence. When they finished, Hannibal went with his daughter upstairs to the room, where he took a dress from the armoire. He dressed her and started to comb her hair. He tied it back in two braids which he united on the top of her head with bobby pins.

“Shall we go walking with Winston?” Hannibal asked her. The girl nodded. “Let’s go. Put on your coat. I’m going to call papa Will.”

Hannibal exited his daughter’s room and went downstairs to the hall, where Will was reading a book sitting on the sofa.

“Hello, my little mongoose.” The psychiatrist whispered before kissing him softly in front of his ear. “Abigail and I are going to go to the park with Winston. Can you accompany us?”

Will left the book on the coffee table and stood up. Abigail, who had already put on his coat, was waiting for them at the front door. When they went off to the garden, Will called Winston whistling. The girl took Hannibal’s hand and they set out to the park.

When they arrived, Abigail sat on a swing. That triggered Will to remember pictures he thought to be forgotten. He saw himself, as a six or seven-year-old, sat on a swing of the school playground, a place where everything that happened make him fell permanently threatened. Thought he was grown up already, he struggled so much to socialise with his colleagues or his students. He imagined the interacting act as trying to go into the rainforest. But, fortunately, thanks to years of practise, it was a rainforest he already knew.

“Shall I push you?” Said Hannibal, making the young men to abandon his thoughts and returning to the park with his daughter and his husband.

“Can you sit with me, papa Will?” She asked while she hopped off the swing. “Papa Han will push us.”

Will hold his daughter in his arms and sat on the board. Hannibal, smiling, rocked her softly. The movement produced in Abigail a pleasant drowsiness and Will smiled with a sweet smile when he saw her closing her eyes. Hannibal stopped the swing and Will, still with the girl in his arms, stood up and started walking on the path.

“How I’m doing it?” He asked Hannibal.

As an only answer, Will received a smile.

Abigail woke up some minutes later, when she felt Winston’s cold nose on her hand.

“Hello, Winston.” She said. “Take me down, papa.”

Will left her on the floor and Abigail pet Winston. The dog licked her face, thanked, while Hannibal started talking to the girl:

“Shall we go, Abigail?” He said, giving her his hand. “You will catch cold.”

She nodded and started walking on the path.

When they arrived home, Abigail went upstairs to her room and Will and Hannibal sat on the hall’s sofa. 

“Keep telling me the story, Han.” Will whispered taking her hand. “So, Mischa and you danced, and you were thinking of having a daughter. What happened next?”

A tear tried to well up from Hannibal’s green eye, but he stopped it.

“I can’t, Will.” The psychiatrist said. “I don’t know how to say it.” 

Will smiled sadly. 

“Try it, Han.” He kissed her eyelids. “Come on.”

Hannibal breathed deeply and carried on with his narration:

_«Winter arrived and with it, famine and revolution. I don’t remember a tougher winter that that year's. The castle was completely isolated because of snow, but the population managed to make their way to it. Frozen stiff and famished, they started to stone the windows and to call my parents thieves. _

_They dive right into all the castle’s rooms, destroying the furniture. Mischa and I were well hidden in grandmother Julianne’s room, who was praying the rosary. I don’t know how much time passed, but she was in the third mystery when someone knocked down the door. Six armed guerrillas entered and make us go out to the patio. They took my parents and my grandmother in a lorry and I never saw them again. Instantly, I turned into my sister’s guardian. _

_The castle remained sieged during many months. When supplies ended, guerrillas went to slaughter the stall’s horses, and with them they carried on for several weeks. _

_But horsemeat also run out and guerrillas took a drastic decision.”_

The moment had come. Hannibal’s eyes went red and he started to cry. Will hugged him tightly and caressed her cheeks before kissing them.

“Say it as you can, Han.” He whispered.

Suddenly, the pictures hidden in the most remote place of his memory palace invaded Hannibal. Mischa dragged by a man dressed in black. A scream and, then, a red spot on the garden’s tree stump.

“The only thing I remember is that it was night. I heard the song of a sharpening steel against a big knife’s edge and, above all, I felt an acrid smell in the hands of one of the guerrillas. That night we had stewed meat for dinner.” 

Will’s heart started to accelerate. He took his husband’s hand and breathed deeply several times. Suddenly, he saw everything with Hannibal’s eyes.

“What was the meat, Han?”

Hannibal started to cry. An insistent and deep crying, as if Hannibal’s soul was being ripped to pieces from the inside with very sharped knives. Between gasps, he only was able to say a word:

“Mischa.”

* * *

Abigail’s voice calling them woke up Hannibal and Will.

“Good morning, _mano mylimoji_!” The psychiatrist said, taking her in his arms. “You woke up all by yourself?” Abigail nodded. “Shall we ask daddy Will to wake up and get breakfast ready?”

The girl nodded again while Hannibal rubbed his husband’s shoulder, who opened his eyes, greeted them both and put on his robe. Abigail was the first who arrived at the kitchen. When the three of them had entered, Hannibal put on his apron, opened the fridge and took half a dozen eggs and a packet with bread, sliced in very thick slices. He put olive oil to heat up in a big saucepan before taking from a cupboard a little glass bowl.

“Look, Abigail.” Hannibal said, elevating in the air on of the eggs. Halfway, the shell crashed with the spatula’s edge and the egg content spilled on the bowl beneath. Abigail looked at his father’s gesture with great amaze.

“Wow!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Do it again! Again!”

Will smiled at her daughter while Hannibal took another egg from the carton. 

“Ale-hop!” Hannibal said before Abigail’s astonished gaze. “Now, we place the bread on the saucepan and put the egg in the middle. It’s called High Life Eggs. They were invented in the nineteenth century by a Spanish cook, Ángel Muro.

Will smiled when he heard the anecdote.

“We are going to set the table, Abigail.” He said, taking a linen tablecloth form a drawer.”

Both went to the hall, with plates, cutlery and glasses.

“Where do you place the fork?” Will asked her.

She bit her lip and knitted her brow.

“You start from the outside to the inside. The fork is placed at the left, on the napkin. At the right, on the inside, goes the knife and, on the outside, the spoon. The dessert spoons go usually on top of the plate.”

Hannibal, who entered the hall with a big tray on his hands, smiled at his daughter and, after placing the tray on the table, he started to applaud her.

“Bravo, _mylimoji_!” He said while he helped her to sit. “Now, breakfast!”

Will took his knife and his fork and, smiling, he started to cut Abigail’s toast.

“If this is bliss.” The young man thought. “I hope it doesn’t end.”

* * *

A year would pass before Hannibal gathered his courage to return to Lithuania. Accompanied by his husband and his daughter, he visited _Lecter Dvaras_. Abigail thought it was one of the palaces of the tales her parents told her, but Hannibal’s soul shook before the vision of the decline of which had been the house in which he had born and spent her childhood. There was no sign of anyone trying to recover it and, for the brushwood which invaded the formerly cared and luxurious gardens, he felt that someone had cursed the property. He had a gladiolus bouquet on his hand, tied with the purest white velvet band.

The garden’s fence, in which centre could be seen Lecter’s coat of arms in a gigantic tile with a craquelure because of the past of time, was broken, covered in rust and brushwood and Hannibal didn’t find difficult to open it. Will took Abigail in her arms, so she couldn’t get pricked and they started to walk. They arrived at the patio in behind the castle.

“It’s not necessary that you go with me, Will.” Hannibal whispered. “Go with Abigail and have a walk in the garden.”

But Will shook his head, left Abigail on the floor, took her hand and both walked beside Hannibal until they reached his sister’s tomb.

“Here I am, Mischa.” Hannibal whispered. «_ Il y a longtemps que je t’aime. Jamais je ne t’oublierai_.[5]»

THE END

* * *

_And in her eyes you see nothing_

_No sign of love behind the tears_

_Cried for no one_

_A love that should have lasted years_!

(John Lennon & Paul McCartney)

[1] “Darling”, in Lithuanian, addressed to a man.

[2] “Darling”, in Lithuanian, addressed to a woman.

[3]Hush-a-bye, my little daughter,/My beloved,/ How many times during the day/ Have I already picked you up,/ I've already picked you up and carried you,/ Put you down in your cradle./ Hush-a-bye, my little daughter,/ My beloved,/ Grow up quickly/ My little daughter,/ Hush-a-bye, my little daughter,/My beloved (Traditional Lithuanian lullaby) 

[4] Beauty, in Lithuanian.

[5] “I have been loving you for a long time. I’ll never forget you.” Verse of the French nursery rhyme _A la Claire Fontaine_.

**Author's Note:**

> This story started with the tag "Abigail is a little girl", which I had in my head for months.


End file.
